


We already had enough bad timing

by RedSnow1



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Clara Oswin Oswald's Death, Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent, F/M, Gallifrey, Hugs, Sad, Twelve whump, Twelveclara, bad timing, desperate twelve, scared Clara, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSnow1/pseuds/RedSnow1
Summary: All he wanted was to hold her. Remember what it felt like before it’s too late.Before she looks at him with fear and shock.Maybe it just wasn't the right moment. And maybe there never will be./OS/Wouffle Week 2020, Day 3 : Bad Timing
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24
Collections: Whouffle Week 2020





	We already had enough bad timing

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the second story I was inspired to write!
> 
> For this story, I was not-betaed. Since I am French, it is possible that you might find some mistakes. I tried my best not to make too many, but sometimes, I can't help it.  
> Thank you to my dear friend @Persephonia1 for her helpful advice and support.
> 
> Happy reading and don't hesitate to leave a comment to let me know what you thought of this story

He has been waiting for four and a half billion years to see her again, and his hands are shaking, as he begs her to follow him. _I can save you_ , he whispers. That is the blatant lie he has been told to say — If only the Time Lords knew he has every intentions to keep that promise. 

Clara looks at him, lost. Clara looks at him, and his hearts shatters into a billion pieces. It has been so long since he has felt the warmth of her glance, the kindness of her soul. She is so close — so far.

_Please, Clara, come with me,_ he silently implores.

She stares at the frozen Raven, and looks around. Time, around them, is suspended. She notices him — The past him, the one that witnessed her downfall. He wonders what she might be thinking, knowing that he has disobeyed her orders. Would she be angry that he burdened himself that way? Relived, perhaps, that she wasn’t completely alone in the end ? 

Clara moves out of the bird’s way, she does as she is told, following his voice. She trusts him — she leaves the street behind and moves towards the TARDIS, open for her. He retreats before she gets there and avoids looking at her because he knows. He knows how much it will hurt just to lay eyes on her again. This is not how he pictured their reunion. He has imagined something a bit more chivalrous — her throwing her arms around his neck, thanking him for having rescued her.

But the Time Lords are here, and he must not let them know of his plan. He awaits, scared, anxious as to how Clara will react once she finds out…

His Impossible Girl walks into the light, exactly how he remembers her, with her quirks and flaws, her funny little nose, and her huge orbs. She walks into the light and he can almost pretend that she hasn’t died in front of his eyes billions of years ago. The memory of that moment rushes back into his mind, the pain twisting his insides. He cannot do it again. 

That is when he knows. He knows he can’t let her die. 

Not for anything. 

He has lost her once, and he refuses to do it again. 

Whatever it takes.

His hearts are pounding against his chest, his entire body threatening to give up on him. He doesn’t know what to do or what to say. And Clara walks, as if nothing has happened — which is true, for her at least. But he, on the other hand, must pretend. He must act as usual, otherwise she will know that something is going on. She knows him too well, that one. She knows how to see through his lies — which makes it difficult to hide his plan from her. 

The Doctor tries his best. He talks to her as if no time had passed since he has last seen her, rounding her, taking in the sight of her. His hearts leap in his chest as the sweet fragrance of her perfume reaches his nose. How he has missed it! She smells of sunsets and lillies — She smells of home. And all he wants to do is to hold her, bury his face in the crook of her neck and lift her off the ground. His body is crying for the warmth of her touch, driving him insane — but he can’t. There are too many people around them, and time is running out. 

She stands near him, frightened by the sight of the General, and he wonders whether he should hold her hand. Her shoulder is almost touching his arm — she is not hiding, but sticking her ground beside him. What a brave woman. Brave, even though she is distressed and confused. Anyone in her place would be, of course. 

She doesn’t understand what is going on and perhaps, it’s best if she never does. 

The General thinks otherwise of course. Damned Time-Lords and their stupid rules. He begins to explain, and the more he does, the more Clara’s face goes somber. Her eyes widen, her hand frantically searching for her heartbeat. She won’t find any. She is frozen in a moment of time — frozen between one heartbeat and the next, or in her case, the last. She keeps on asking questions, keeps on searching for his glance, but he can’t — he just can’t look at her. If he does, he might just crumble and fall. He might tell her the horrible truth, and Clara can’t know about that.

Given what he is about to do, the importance of his task, he really cannot afford that.

“It doesn’t matter” He says, hoping that she will listen to him and leave it alone.

Because it doesn’t. It really doesn’t. All that matters is that she is here, now — she is safe, or rather she will be, soon. Once he’s found a way to lay a hand on the General’s weapon. His brain is fueled with adrenaline, running a thousand hypotheses at the same time, calculating his chances. In his mind, one word. Her name, _Clara_. That's all he needs — or so he thinks… 

He looks at her, the way she shakes, her eyes red with unshed tears, and he wishes he could wipe all worries off her pretty face. _Maybe I can?_ He thinks. Because he knows Clara. He has been writing down the way her features change depending on which emotions she is experiencing. It’s all laid out inside a journal that no one will ever find — as well as possible ways to deal with said feelings. 

He knows that whenever she is scared or worried, the best way to soothe Clara is to comfort her. He knows how much she loves hugging, how calming it is for her. He steps towards her softly and delicately. His arms move on their own accord, ready to slither into her back. He is close to getting what he wants — what he needs. Because he is not doing it just for Clara. He also has far more selfish reasons. The universe owes him this. This little moment. 

All he wants is to crush his body against her, engulf her with the tightest hug. All he wants is to feel her safe, in his arms, where nothing can happen to her.

“Yes, it matters to me!” She snaps, moving away from him.

And it’s like a punch in the face.

Startled, he takes a step back. And his hearts stop for a few minutes. Clara looks at him, and he sees anger burning inside her big brown eyes. He retreats, hurt. The rejection stings and, like venom, spreads to his entire body. Somehow, it hurts as much as dying, all over again. 

Clara Oswald has never rejected him before. Not like that. She has been angry at him, incredibly disappointed but never… scared? Is she scared of him? Of what he may do?

He turns his back, as the General explains further. He hides his sorrow, tries to regain some sort of composure.

But it’s not her fault. It’s never her fault.

She is scared, and angry. She is lost and confused. It’s a lot to take in, and he understands that.

It’s not her fault. It’s never her fault. He could never blame her.

She doesn’t know. And she can never know. 

She doesn’t know that he has been waiting for this moment for four and a half billion years. She is not aware that the mere hope of seeing her again had fueled him to do the impossible. How can she know how many times he has died to save her? How much blood was spilt from breaking that wall with his bare hands ? All of this for her.

To save her.

Fix his mistake.

Give her the life she deserves. The life that was taken away from her.

She doesn’t know that he would do it all over again just to see a smile on her face.

She doesn’t know. And he can never tell her.

What good would it do? 

He sighs.

All he wanted was to hold her. Remember what it felt like before it’s too late.

Before she looks at him with fear and shock.

Maybe it just wasn't the right moment. And maybe there never will be.

All he wanted was a hug. And he doesn’t even like hugging. But for her — he would do anything.

He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have a choice anymore. He has to do it.

And the Doctor punches the General and gets a hold of his gun.

“I will not let Clara die.”

  
  



End file.
